The Ancient and Most Noble House of Weasley
by RHGroeninga
Summary: AU, Weasley family over generations. Why are the Weasleys so poor? Why are they considered blood-traitors? What would've happened, if in 1932, Septimus Weasley would've been sorted in Slytherin? Watch as snippets of time fly by, see generations be born, be sorted, fall in love, and find how the Weasley family unfolds, but now they're different than the family we know...
1. Septimus Weasley 1932

_Septimus Weasley 1932_

One by one, the first years were called to the front, where they sat down, wore the odd, singing, tattered hat and we're sorted in one of Hogwarts' magnificent houses: RAVENCLAW! SLYTHERIN! HUFFLEPUFF! GRYFFINDOR!

Nervous for what was coming, Septimus looked to his left, where his brother Alrod was silently muttering with his friends. He immediately recognized Peter Jackson, a friendly, though quite immature third year with dark blond curls and a defiant glint in his eyes. Betting on his sorting, Septimus suspected.

"Black, Cedrella!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Like the Blacks were notorious Slytherins, the Weasleys were Gryffindors through and through. According to the family myth, their ancestor Harrald Weasley had been fighting along Godric's side during the age of the founders. When Godric Gryffindor was killed, Harrald made it his personal quest to avenge his death. He succeeded, but before he could return to his home, he was ended by Gullan, the Black Dragon of the West.

"Mayfield, Gertrude!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Nowadays, less and less of the students in the school were of old wizarding families, like himself, and thus long-lasting bonds between families and houses became rarer and rarer. A pity, he thought. The only house which seemed to be spared from this ultimate doom was Slytherin, as that house forbade Muggle-borns to intrude.

There had been a fair bit of discussion on the subject this summer. Instigated by this newly published list, the Sacred Twenty-Eight, it suddenly became painfully clear the Weasleys were one of a few, one of the few families included that actually didn't try to protect their blood-status, and were consequently becoming less and less of a pure-blood family, and thus less and less of a Weasley, until they would be distinct. This nagged Septimus, how long would it be until the Weasleys weren't a proper wizarding family anymore? The word 'blood-traitor' had already been uttered, and it seemed only a matter of time before their position would be taken over by Muggles and Muggle-borns.

Septimus clenched his teeth in fury. He would _not _let the Weasley family – one of the last pure-blood families intertwined with the Gryffindor house – fade away, leaving the privilege of blood purity for the Slytherins to take.

"Weasley, Septimus!"

As he strolled forwards, an idea stroke his mind. If you can't beat them, why not join them? It may be exceptional for a Weasley to be anything but a Gryffindor, but for the sake of their existence it was an easy sacrifice to make.

He sat on the stool, and the hat was lowered on his unambiguous, flaming red hair. The hat seemed to be surprised at the amount of hatred and ambition this peculiar Weasley bore, though the pride was nothing new, and after a moment of consideration, he came to his final decision.

"Okay… Then it shall be SLYTHERIN!"

The Great Hall was stunned into silence. The only sound to be heard was the clinging of coins, as Alrod handed Peter his money. There hadn't been a Weasley in Slytherin since… ever.

Septimus stood up, and strode to the Slytherin table, head held high. The older Slytherins slowly began clapping, but by the time he reached the table Septimus had caught some genuine smiles. It was unusual, but not a shame to be a Slytherin. He was sure his parents would understand. He'd done it for their survival.

Yes, times were certainly changing.


	2. Cedrella Black 1941

_Cedrella Black 1941_

"Of course, Miss Black, we will regard this matter with the highest urgency. We are glad there are still people who speak up, even though –" Cedrella's mind drifted off. She vaguely wondered whether the officer in front her was simply afraid or corrupt, as he couldn't possibly believe the garbage her sister was spraying. Incompetent teacher, overly ignorant in her own domain, should not be allowed to misguide the poor, naïve students any longer, all in all, professor Zeening was a complete and utter fraud, as were most of the teachers who opposed the poor, young Miss Black. Most likely her dear sister Charis had gotten an Poor on her Divination essay.

It was then when she saw a face that she hadn't seen for the past one and a half year. A friendly face. A freckled face. A face retorted in anger as he passed by, which was a rare sight in itself.

Leaving her sisters side for the moment – why had she come along anyway? – Cedrella followed the large steps of Septimus Weasley. She made a very sophisticated and dignified sprint, and caught up with him as she joined him in the lift. They went down.

"What's the matter, Sep?"

When he heard that name, he swirled around bewildered, to the women that came into the lift after him. It couldn't be…

"Ceddie! It's you! How are you, dear girl?"

Cedrella rose her eyebrows and smirked. "I thought _I _asked a question first. Why is my sweet Weasel-snake looking so thunderous today?" Through their shared years at Hogwarts they'd invented many puns and nick-names for each other. Weasel-snake was one of the more regular ones. After all, he was only in his sort.

As soon as the words left her lips, the scowl returned immediately. "Alrod died." he grunted.

Cedrella directly began apologizing, but he wove her regrets away. "That's not it. Of course, it had been a tradegy, but that's not why I'm here. Well, not entirely."

The lift halted with a jolt, almost knocking its occupants from their feet. Cedrella looked up at the floor they had landed, quirking an eye-brow. "Wizengamot?"

Septimus sighed wearily. "He left three children and a wife, who automatically claimed all his properties, as he had never bothered about the will, the bloody git." He gave the memory of his brother a melancholic smile.

"She came from America, you see? Obscure background, no money, no solid magical education, certainly a marriage you wouldn't approve of, _I _didn't approve of, in fact, I did object. Alrod thought it were my Slytherin paranoia, though I appear to be right in the end. Deceitful scum. She put everything for sale, the house, the lands – lands that had been part of the Weasley estate for ages! – so she forced me to be quick, to save our grounds by _purchasing_ them _back_ from _her_. She said she needed the money to move back to America! _With_ the children."

"But that ground was a gift from your parents, I suppose?"

"Exactly, and not only that, their whole capital existed of gifts from our family and Alrod's in advance paid inheritance. Practically everything they owned, everything _she_ tried to take with her, was given by my good parents to support Alrod in raising his 'lovable little family'. Of which we wouldn't have seen much more, had she left already. But thank Merlin, I could report her in time. We've collected all the evidence we could lay hands on, and now hopefully we will win the case. But you'll understand, why I'm a bit bitter for what she tried to do to us."

A bit bitter? His expression would've been 'a bit bitter', were it on her uncle's face, Septimus wasn't supposed to show any anger or fierceness at all. She had known him as the mellow lad, the carefree lad, the if-it-doesn't-concern-me-why-would-I-be-concerned type of person. Easy to talk with, always open to a game of chess or a bit of mischief, a relieve in the stuck-up Slytherin house. Never she'd expected to see him angry, although the calm, cold way he was it didn't surprise her in the least.

She gave him an encouraging smirk – one of those expressions only she could muster. "But then there's no need to worry, is there? Those wizards up there are quite easy to manipulate, just sound more confident than her defendants. It's much like a game of chess, really, you've got your pieces, now you need to use them in the right moment, in the right way. You've always beaten me in chess, so you will win this. As long as you're in the right, of course."

Septimus looked annoyed by this. "_Of course_, I'm in the right! What do you take me for!?"

"Then I'd love to hear how you crushed her."

He darkly muttered something about regret and crossing the wrong kind of people.

"Anyhow, you're still with Emily Bark?"

He turned back in surprise, his hand already on the door that gave access to the courtroom.

"No, actually. As a matter of fact, we broke up last summer." There was a hint of strain in his voice, making quite clear to Cedrella who'd broken up with whom. Ungrateful hag. She'd had one of the nicest, sweetest, cleverest man in Britain, and thrown him away. Well, her bad.

She gave him one of her warmest smiles. "Please visit us when you're done with the case. Tell us how she squirmed as you put forward document after document, crushing, squashing her defence. Tell us over tea. I believe my parents would love to get acquainted with the infamous Slytherin Weasley."

His face blank in wonder, Septimus entered court.


	3. Bilius Weasley 1954

_Bilius Weasley 1954_

His father had a one-track-mind. Although he did pursue several things during his live – he'd _obsessed_ over several things in his live – he'd had never more than one goal – obsession – at the time.

Take the case over Uncle Alrod's inheritance. For months on end he'd been non-stop pursuing his sister-in-law, scraping evidence together, bringing up every little detail that could help him win his case, _so absorbed_ he didn't even _notice_ the butterflies twirling in his stomach. At least, not until the case was done and over with (he'd won); before the end of that same year Septimus and Cedrella were husband and wife.

But instead of thinking of children Septimus had already found a new engrossment: it were the years Grindelwald's ideals became commonly known all over Britain, and Septimus followed these new developments with an unequalled passion and commitment, boosting and taking advantage of the new believes wherever he could. However, Grindelwald was eventually defeated by Dumbledore, and the hierarchy he stood for reduced to nothing but a dream; not even one year later Bilius was born.

It kind of seemed the story of their life.

Now, Septimus was the proud father of three freckled, red-headed sons, each of them two years older than their younger brother. Bilius was the eldest, and the most boisterous. Godfrey was the middle, and the most calculating. Arthur was the youngest, and the most bothersome…

"But _mum_! We _need_ to go to Frannie's, what will people think?" Septimus, Cedrella, Bilius, Godfrey and Arthur stepped out of the fireplace into the Leaky Cauldron, while Bilius resumed his whining, hoping for a visit to Franne Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour – or more precise: hoping for ice cream. "We always have ice-cream when we're in Diagonally! They'll be suspicious, think something is going on… something _sinister_! They'll think we're avoiding people, that we have _murdered someone_… Then they'll question Frannie, and she'll say –"

"That nothing of the sort has happened and that decent, mature wizards shouldn't listen to a bad-behaved child!" His mother resolutely cut in. "And you know perfectly well why you're not allowed ice-cream any more, _both of you_, after last time…"

"Hey, that's not fair!" Godfrey protested. "It was Bill who fed the Puffkeins the ice-cream, I didn't do a thing!"

"Godfrey, don't get into this. I _saw_ you standing near the pet shop _with_ your ice-cream." Cedrella told him sternly.

Godfrey now had tears in his eyes, putting up a quite good act in Bilius' opinion. "But Bill _forced_ me to come along!"

Bilius gaped at his younger brother, not believing he was selling him out.

"_What!?_ I can't believe this. Bill, when we get home you go _straight _to your room, for blaming your younger brother!"

"But mum, I –"

"I don't care you didn't know, we've had this discussion before! Be silent, _now_!"

Bilius grinded his teeth and glared at Godfrey, who stuck out his tongue at him. Stupid brat. It was his idea. Once they got home, he'd learn him a firm lesson on telling on other people, that was, if their mother would ever let him out of sight again.

Their father was already standing at the entrance of Diagon Alley.

"Hey, where's Arthur?" Godfrey suddenly said.

Their father's eyes became wider and wider as he looked at his wife, who looked just as worried, then he stormed through the pub, searching under chairs and table, but finding nothing remotely looking like a red-headed son. When he reached the Muggle end of the pub, he looked down the street. He swore lowly, making Bilius snigger.

"I'm going to look outside, he's most likely heading to Charing Cross. You wait here with Bill and Godfrey, okay? I'll come back soon as I find him." With a soft tinkling of the bell, he disappeared through the door.

The moment he was gone, Bill burst out laughing. "_Bilius Phineas Weasley_!" hearing his full name, Bill stopped at once. Who called their child 'Bilius Phineas'? "Your brother is missing, this is _not _funny!"

Beside him, Godfrey smirked, and stomped him hard in the arm. "Ouch! What was that for!?" He shoved his brother hard, but before any more fighting could ensue, Cedrella caught him in a grip more resembling an iron clamp than a human hand.

"Bill, don't shove your brother! You're the oldest, you're supposed to be the responsible one!"

"But he began! He hit me!"

"You are much stronger than him and you know that! And Godfrey," Godfrey tried to sway his mother with a charming smile, but for now, she was unswayable, "that was uncalled for."

"What was uncalled for?" he asked innocently. Cedrella sighed audibly, but decided not to respond to that.

They waited for another twenty minutes, and Cedrella began to feel worried. Just then, the fireplace lit up green again, and a man with long, light brown hair tied up in a bun and flamboyant bordeaux robes stepped out, followed by a woman and a boy with identical platinum blond hair. The woman caught her eye, and grimaced, before the man noticed her too and approached her with an overconfident smirk. Cedrella groaned inwardly. Perfect, just perfect!

"Well, good morning, my dear Cedrella, how's life treating you today?" He looked her straight in the eyes, blatantly ignoring the children.

"I'm just fine Mr Malfoy, and I wasn't aware we were on first name terms _yet_." She spit out that last words with as much venom as she could muster.

"I was just hoping you could come over once, for dinner or a cup of tea? I have to admit, you are still the beautiful flower you once were, Cedrella, as the House of Black has brought forth many reputable, noble spouses. I would hate to see such a stunning appearance as you waste away as a bleak, bland country wife, working as a House Elf to feed her husband's... offspring." Bilius and Godfrey glared at him.

"If I may be so _blunt_, but it wouldn't surprise me if you would enjoy the company of decent people for a change?"

You wish. She knew, for a fact, that Abraxas Malfoy lusted after her. His distastefully slick attempts to propose her was _one_ of the reasons to marry Septimus as soon as he asked, another was his badly concealed disdain for her husband. She was glad her parents hadn't fallen for it, instead they had given her the permission to marry whomever she pleased, as long as they weren't Mudbloods or blood-traitors. Septimus fulfilled those two requirements perfectly after he'd protected his family fortune successfully, and was welcomed as a Black's son-in-law. Needless to say, however, Malfoy didn't agree with the marriage.

"I do appreciate a decent company, yes, if that's what you're hinting at. However, I'm afraid I won't find _that_ in your humble estate."

Malfoy was silently seething, and his wife, Charlotte Malfoy née Burke, was blazing at her. Cedrella had always pitied the woman – despite Mrs Malfoy's delicate features and dazzling blond hair, Charlotte would only be second best in her husband's eyes. The first? Cedrella. She laid a hand on each of her sons' shoulders protectively.

At that moment, the doorbell erupted in a loud tinkling as a man and a little boy stepped in. The boy held an odd contraption in his hand, most resembling a small sort of box.

The man held Malfoy's gaze, unfazed, as he greeted him with a curt nod. "Malfoy."

Malfoy grimaced, before he hissed back. "Weasley."

The tall, ginger man stepped around him to join his wife. "He was near the station, found him with the Tracker-Charm, remind me to thank your mother for those."

Abraxas sneered. "Lost your child, Weasley?"

"Yes, inquisitive fellow, this one is. A joy in our lives, truly, but can be a handful every now and then, at least we've now put a Tracker-Charm on him before we left so he wouldn't get lost."

"Pity." Malfoy huffed.

"Our Lucius," Mrs Malfoy drawled loudly, miffed with the amount of attention Cedrella was getting, "would never walk away. He is an angel, and might I add, is showing all the signs to become an extraordinarily competent wizard. We met the Minister the other day, he also is very fond of the boy, _very_ fond."

"Lovely." Septimus commented dryly, and then turned to his family again. "Shall we go?"

"Mummy, look what I found!" Little Arthur called out, clenching his mother's robes. He held up the little box, and preformed a peculiar thumb movement. A flame sprang from the silver object.

"Ah," Abraxas said with faked interest. "So _that's_ how you dig up your interior. You let your sons steal Muggle objects as decoration!"

Septimus paled, though his ears turned red. "Our children do _not _steal." he hissed.

"So he picks it up from the pavement? How… nostalgic." The little brat called Lucius smirked.

Bilius couldn't hold his mouth any longer, and shouted out in all fury his young body could bare. "Shut this nonsense! Our family is _not _poor, thank you very much, and has twice the talent and the magic that _your _family will ever get!"

Abraxas snarled at the nuisance at his feet. "Teach your little brat some manners, Weasley, if you know what's good for him. And for the other…" He scowled at Arthur and snorted. "Wizards should know their place in the world, and they should know how to stay away from those _tramps_ calling themselves Muggles. _Picking rubbish up from the street_, see what you get from your _blood-traitorous ways_!" And so, without another word, he strode past them, his silk robes dramatically bellowing behind him. Mrs Malfoy sent them one last scornful glare, her mouth twisted in vengeful glee. "Wait till this gets out, Black. You will be wondering, who's made the better choice." With that, she let her child through the gate, following her husband's steps.

Septimus watched their theatrical departure with an angry weariness. "Arthur, never go out to the Muggle world again. Will you?"

"But the Muggle world is so much fun! We never go there! Look what I've found!"

Septimus sighed. Bilius was still fuming from this encounter with the Malfoys, Godfrey looked about to snatch the silver box out of his brother's hands, but when it came down to it – when it really, _actually_ came down to it – Arthur was the most bothersome of them all.


End file.
